Fostering Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 1) (2 page)

I rest my eyes, mid dance, for just a second and try to get deeper into the music but instead I feel a wall.  How in the hell did I get by the wall? I knew I was wobbly and a little merry (never openly admit you’re drunk) but to make it to the wall was some serious situation under assessment.

              “Home.  Dalton get your shit and your crew and go home.”  I know that voice.  It’s not
the
wall it is
a
wall.  I also know walls don’t talk or call me by my full first name, he was the only one who called me Dalton, so my quick powers of blurry perception knew he’d made the approach.  He was built, and I mean BUILT.  I know it’s only been eighteen months since he’d last came home for shore leave, but unless he’s been on a diet of bricks and concrete, things have changed, he’s become bigger and God, he looks mouth wateringly good.

I slowly spin to greet him with a smile plastered on my face, but by the way he takes hold of my upper arms I guess I am a little more unsteady than I want to appear.  My eyes hit mid chest, moving upwards I spot a sprinkling of chest hair visible through the top two open buttons on his shirt.  Hang on...he’s wearing a shirt, a simple black button up shirt, complete with cufflinks and he looks lush.  No other words for it.  My mind had not created this Adonis during his absence and my over active imagination, he simply was HOT.  At 6ft 5”, with a few tattoos and a simple black grade shaved head and blue eyes that looked lilac at times, he carries his hotness with an edge of unapproachable fierce.  What I also had to remember quickly was that he was my hot foster brother and I’m not important enough to be told he was coming home for leave.  Tits Brunel on the other hand apparently is.  At that point I realize getting head is higher on his list of priorities than me, so the red mist descends again and quickly.

              “Jonas, welcome home, don’t let me spoil your fun.”  I say this as I try to drag my eyes away from his and indicate old gobble gobble behind the bar.  His eyes take on a harder edge.  Yep.  He’s using his angry eyes with me, as usual.  Well, BALLS TO THAT.

              “Dalton, don’t make me drag you out of here. You’re drunk.  You’re creating a damn blast radius of beer on the dance floor and embarrassing yourself.  If I have to carry you out of here over my shoulder I will.”  He wasn’t moving and in all honesty I wasn’t firing on all barrels, this meant any argument wouldn’t be pretty or coherent.  I was flanked immediately by my fellow soul sisters.  They knew I’d been in love with this guy for years and that unfortunately it was going nowhere, it was a dead end.  They also knew I was capable of lashing out and losing my shit in an instant.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You can’t just march up to me and tell me to leave?” I may be slurring a bit but I hope I’m conveying just how pissed off I am.

              “Dollydude, we’ll catch a cab, call it a night,” seriously, hearing prim and proper Lottie use the word dude was just
too
funny. An un-lady like laugh, snort, sort of choke left my face in a hurry.  Jonas continues to stare at me, not moving and not conversing further.

              “Yep.  Wagons roll girlies, the fun police are out in force.”  With an attempt at cool, I spin on my kickass boots and lead my girls like a procession.  Once I get to the door, I open my clutch (how did that get under my arm?) and grab my cell.  I start to search my address book for my usual go to cab guy.  As I’m doing this a loud whistle sounds from close behind, whilst sourcing that noise our cab friend, Tommy Sevens, pulls up outside the club door.

              “Tommy, straight home.  Stay outside until they shut the door behind them, especially Dalton. I’d probably get your trash bags out of the trunk too.  Put it on the account.”  Jonas then pushes us in the cab, shuts the door and fists the universal ‘go’ signal on the roof.  He then pivots and returns to the club, with a guy-nod to the doormen.  We begin our usual nonsense chat, which consists of a quick and instant night debrief, although no one mentions the sudden appearance of Jonas.   Neely and I are the first drop off, being closest to the club.  This means my allotted segment in this debrief consists of
what the fuck
and
who does he think he is
type
comments.  I stumble out, saying bye and giving sister kisses, then head inside and lock the door. 

First stop, fridge for a large bottle of water and then head for the bathroom.  After taking care of business which includes make up removal and a drunken cleanse, tone and moisturize routine I wrestle off the boots that have brought death to the edges of my feet and toes.  Slinging my clothes at the laundry basket and swapping my strapless bra and matching panties for a Minnie Mouse vest top and boy shorts, I fall at the bed.  I instantly decide I’m comfy and drift off to sleep.

*****

Jonas

Shit!  Fuckin’ Dalton and her need to binge drink and attract attention.  What the fuck is the matter with her?

It’s like being a teenager again, for both of us and I can’t believe I reacted as badly as I did.  There was no way I was standing around watching her get hit on by some fuckin’ guy and it
was
happening, she may not have been aware of it but it was just a matter of time.

“Jonas, man, told you weeks ago, flying under the radar was never gonna work.  That could have been a whole lot less traumatic for both of you, if you’d just told her you were coming back,” says Chris.

“Give it a rest Chris, anonymity is only gonna help me get this shit sorted quicker.  Dalton being a fuckin’ pain my ass is not,” I snap back at him.

“And you don’t think she’s gonna be a pain your ass now you’ve just pissed her off and chucked her out of the club?”

“Yeah, that I will agree with you on, but I need my focus here not watching her flirting and coming onto every dickhead in the place.”

“OK. Whatever man, it’s your funeral.” Chris chuckles back at me as he takes a swig of beer.

“Jonas, baby, you ready to get out of here? Time for some fun…in private.”  Letitia Brunel is another blast from the past, one I can well do without, but unfortunately needs must.  The sooner I do this, the sooner I can start again.

I wake the next morning feeling a little woozy, but on the whole considering what I put away last night, I know I’ve escaped lightly.  Grabbing the water, I tank it back until my mouth starts to lose the sawdust effect.  I start my usual night out assessment and then remember what went down. 

NO WAY. 

That is literally all I can come up with.

I’ve been in love with Jonas Drakeson for most of what I called my romancing years.  We are both part of Barbara and Harrison Grigg’s foster family.  I’d been with them since I was 9, moving from two counties away to live with them.  My dad took off, taking most of our savings leaving my mother to fend for herself.  I say this because that’s pretty much how she viewed it, she was left on her own, and I was just...there.  He was the love of her life, she apparently wasn’t his one and only and I was even less significant.  Hitting the bottle to numb her pain, meant missing work, which eventually led to her getting fired, bills being unpaid and us losing our nice two bedroom home and having to move to a one bedroom apartment on the other side of town.

Luckily for me, I say lucky, a neighbor put two and two together and called the authorities when it became obvious mom was selling all our furniture and was seen sleeping in the yard a few times.  The neighbor used to take me in and give me a hot meal during the day whilst mom was cuddling the foliage.  Things escalated when I told Doris one day over vegetable hot pot that I didn’t get much sleep the night before because mom and her friend were noisy all night.  Much to her horror, I’d also shared the nature of the noises they were making and that they were naked and I was trying to sleep in the same bed.  Within hours a police woman appeared and told me I was going to go and stay somewhere whilst mom got herself together.  I was sad, but at 9 years old you just go with it.

She took me to Barbara and Harrison’s house where I got clean clothes, great food regularly and my own room.  Barbara was a beautiful woman with thick shiny black bobbed hair, she had a generous full figure and always wore flowing skirts, tops and lived in flat comfortable shoes.  She loved to cook and bake and seeing her at home without an apron on was a rarity.  She took pride in those that she loved, which was something I had not experienced before.  Harrison was a tall guy, who looked imposing to a small girl, but he had a smile that made you trust him straight away.  His hands were always rough from working outside in the yard or building something in his shed.  He loved Barbara and I used to get embarrassed when I saw him stealing a kiss from her.  He told me when I was small that he’d always protect me.  I’d never had someone who wanted to make sure I was OK.   I’ve never forgotten that and the hug we shared when he told me that showed him how happy I was.

They also had 2 younger twin boys living with them, Jack and Jake, I helped look after them and played with them during the day.  Jack and Jake had been with the Griggs since a few months after they were born, they’ve never known any other parent figures in their lives.  It wasn’t until I was older that I learned they had legally adopted the twins who had been born to a wild, out of control high school mom.  She was planning to keep the babies, but her parents had different ideas.  She was told to choose between giving the babies away for adoption or finding herself homeless with twins.  It seems at fifteen you don’t really have many choices and as hard as it was, she gave them away for adoption.  Barbara and Harrison couldn’t have children of their own and had been on the adoption waiting list for some time.  As it was a closed adoption that is as much as they know about her.  The twins haven’t had any contact with her directly or via the adoption agency and they have never attempted to make any contact with her either. 

After a month the Griggs sat me down and told me that my mom had disappeared and that if I wanted to, I could stay with them and start school.  I felt bad because I hadn’t thought much of mom since I’d been there, but I felt happy and safe too, so I said “thank you” and my life took a normal turn.  I joined the local school, met Neely, which in turn meant we met Flo and Lottie. 

To my knowledge my mom has never attempted to see me, I used to ask Barbara when I was little if she was still around.  Barbara wouldn’t make excuses for her and never lied to me about my mom not being part of my life but did say things that made me understand that I was loved and safe.  She always made it known that if my mom came looking for me she’d support me through it.  After a while I just stopped asking.

My next big world spin was eighteen months later when the Griggs took in a brooding 14 year old boy, up until then it had just been them, the twins and I.  Jonas Drakeson was placed with Barbara and Harrison after his parents were killed in a car wreck.  They were travelling into the city for something and sat at the back of a traffic jam when a tanker failed to brake in time behind them.  Both the tanker and the Drakeson’s car exploded on impact and burst into flames.  Jonas was at home with the babysitter and didn’t know anything was wrong until he got up the next morning.  Instead of his mom being in the kitchen making his school lunch, he found a neighbor consoling the crying babysitter and a police woman on the couch.  After she shared the news, she told him they couldn’t track down any other family members and that he was going to spend time with a foster family she knew well.

Jonas was a teenage boy and had a harsh look about him that still haunts his face at times today.  He never opened up and spoke little and often.   Family counselors confirmed he was capable; he was just a kid that didn’t waste words when a few direct ones would do the job.  Harrison got Jonas involved in some manual house type stuff, whilst I shied away from his brooding demeanor at all costs.  He was enrolled in school and it was well known that the moody troubled boy was now my big foster brother.

I don’t remember how long he’d been with us, but it was a while, when I had some trouble on the way home from school and Jonas swooped in like a hero and got rid of the bullies.  From then on, I saw him differently.  No matter what he did – and there was a lot of stuff – I always saw the best in him, idolized him and would do anything for him.  As time progressed I began to realize I didn’t see him as my big foster brother.  I started to get older, dress differently, fill out with the required lumps and bumps and on a whim decided to invoke the help of the now known “fun four” gang to get him to notice me.

Barbara and Harrison kept pretty strict house rules so I couldn’t progress my plan at home.  This meant a during school/outside house attack.  Jonas started to change too, he avoided me more and more and started to get into trouble, although nothing major.  He was finishing high school and the way he was going his future said one thing – jail time.  Meanwhile back on Planet Dalton, my attempts to get noticed didn’t go undetected.  I’d managed to catch the eye of Christopher Hale.  Chris was the local ranch owner’s boy, star football player and all round cowboy gentleman.  Things with Chris progressed slowly and for a long time they were more friendly than romantic, he also didn’t notice my obsession with all things Jonas, or so I thought.

On returning home one night from a football game, I walked into the house to see Barbara, Harrison and Jonas sat at the kitchen table.  Things were strained because he’d just been brought home by the local police deputy...again so I said goodnight and went to bed.  After school the next day I came home to find a family decision had been made.  Jonas had enlisted in the navy.  His basic training was due to start in three days time.  I felt like I was in some bad dream.  He was leaving and I’d never told him how much he meant to me.  I carried on in a daze and in typical Jonas style he left earlier than planned, he hated goodbyes.  There was no “see you soon” or “take care”. No nothing.  I began to act like I was mourning someone’s death and after 3 months Chris called time on our relationship.  He said he knew my heart was elsewhere, I couldn’t argue with him and because he’s a gentleman he made it possible for us to remain friends.